


Ink

by Echo (Lyrecho)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Oneshot, Prompt Fill, Tattoist au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 15:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10192493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrecho/pseuds/Echo
Summary: Tea asked:AU where Prompto is a part-time tattoo artist and he does Gladio's tattoo for him. They both talk about Noct without knowing who the other is until they meet a week after the tattoo is done and have the biggest 'oh shit' moment between them.|Tumblr||Twitter|





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kestrealbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrealbird/gifts).



When Gladio decided he wanted to get a tattoo, word travelled through the citadel _fast_ \- and before he knew it, Crowe Altius was sitting him down for lunch.

"You'll want to go here," she said, and scribbled an address on his hand. "Good rates and good work - they did my tattoo a few years back."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't see any ink on you," he said, and she laughed.

"Oh, it's there," she reassured. "Give it a few years and maybe I'll let you see for yourself."

She winked, and it wasn't until that evening when he got home that Gladio remembered the address she'd scrawled onto him in black ballpoint; staring at it in the mirror he decided to go check out the place the next day.

•

It was clean, he saw when he entered, which was good. The pinups and books of generic laminate designs were kept neat and out of the way, too, meaning the small space of the tattoo parlour seemed much more open than it actually was.

A blond was manning the desk - hair styled up like Ignis if specs ever went ruffian and a pair of poison green glasses perched on his nose, the guy - who looked younger than Gladio - blinked at him, and put the pen he was gnawing on down. Gladio's eyes automatically tracked the movement, and caught a glimpse of what looked like ink on the blond's wrist; he relaxed without even realising he'd been tense in the first place - he hadn't really gotten a clear look, sure, but whatever was on the guy's wrist had had incredibly clean lines, so he could only imagine that he had at least _some_ idea of what he was doing.

"You have an appointment?" The guy asked. "Or looking for a quote or consultation..?" He trailed off leadingly.

"I came here on a recommendation, actually," Gladio said. "And money isn't issue so much as..." He paused awkwardly, not sure how best to phrase his next words so that they wouldn't offend the guy.

"Talent?" The guy asked, a smile playing on his lips. "Skill?" When Gladio blanched wordlessly, he shook his head and laughed. "I guess you're looking for a custom job, then?"

"Uh - yeah," Gladio admitted.

"Dude, I'm not offended," the guy reassured him. "Its your skin; the last thing you want it some doofus screwing it up for life. That said..." He shrugged sheepishly. "I'm actually in charge of doing the custom designs right now as a part of my training, so if you don't want someone not fully qualified to play with ink and needles on you you'll either have to go somewhere else or wait till next month."

Gladio shook his head. "I'm sure you'll do fine," he said. "My tat isn't going to be that complicated." _I think._

"Well, I don't have any appointments.for the rest of the day?" The guy offered. "If you just step out back into my office - I'm Prompto, by the way - we can have a look at some prelim sketches and give you a rough quote and timeframe; if you want something big it will take multiple sessions."

"Thanks," Gladio said. "And, uh - my name, it's Gladio."

•

On paper the rough sketches Prompto drew for him looked nice, and the price seemed reasonable, so Gladio had seen no issue in booking himself an appointment for the following week. He strolled into the shop cheerily, and was greeted with Prompto standing at one of the walls beside a girl who couldn't have been more than fifteen, answering her questions as she pointed to different piercings on display in the case.

Prompto was being a lot more patient than Gladio would have been able to manage, to be completely honest, given that the girl - tense and pale - clearly had no plans to actually get a piercing - but Prompto just offered him a small smile and wave and said to the girl, "but either way, Amy, you're underage, so I'm going to need that slip I gave you signed by your legal guardian before I can so much as give you a pair of clip-ons." He tugged at the girl's ponytail gently and she was smiling as she left the store.

"Hey, Gladio," Prompto greeted, and locked the door shut behind her, switching the sign to CLOSED. "You're my last appointment for the day."

"Lucky me," Gladio said dryly, and Prompto laughed.

"The room just back there," he said, and gestured. "Get in there, get comfortable, and get your shirt off - I'll be in after I've washed my hands."

Following his instructions, Gladio immediately pulled his shirt over his head as he walked behind the counter to the open room Prompto had indicated, sitting on the padded reclinable chair backwards so his chest was pressed to the back of it.

"Oh, nice," Prompto commented as he walked into the room, disposable gloves tight like a blue second skin up to his elbow. "Okay, so at this point most tattooist's would use a stencil and like, spray the outline of the tat where you want it so you get a good idea of what you're getting," Prompto said, eyes meeting Gladio's in the mirror that ran all about the room and his hand tracing the pattern of his tattoo on his bare back, making him shiver. "Now, I can do that if you want - I printed out stencils to scale after we finalised the base design - but that's...not really how I prefer to do it."

"Whatever works best for you," Gladio said. "You're the professional here; you know best. I trust you."

"You sound like my friend," Prompto mused, as Gladio heard what sounded like a pen being uncapped and then felt the coolness of ink as a nib was traced over his skin. "He's always going on about how he trusts me and I shouldn't second guess myself."

"Well then, you've got a good friend," Gladio said. "In fact, he kind of sounds like a guy I know."


End file.
